A WINTER'S TALE
by Patcat
Summary: For the season
1. Chapter 1

A WINTER'S NIGHT

(With apologies to Charles Dickens, Frank Capra, James Stewart, Dick Wolf, Rene Balcer, Warren Leight, Vincent D'Onofrio, and anyone else who might be insulted by this. They had nothing…NOTHING…to do with this except as inspiration.)

CHAPTER ONE

"So, you think he's a jumper?" the younger cop asked as he carefully moved the squad car across the bridge and past the large, solitary figure leaning on the rail.

"I don't know," the older cop sighed. He and his partner had passed the figure three times, and each time the sergeant hoped and feared that the man would be gone. It was Christmas Eve, and the heavy snow and cold appeared to have kept everyone inside. Ted Mayo hoped he might get through his shift and to his family at a reasonable hour. It wasn't that Ted Mayo was a lazy or bad cop—far from it. He'd volunteered to show Josh Lee the ropes, and that included working with the rookie on Christmas Eve. The NYPD knew Mayo as a good guy. It was just that he preferred spending this evening with his family and not trying to talk a guy down from the Brooklyn Bridge during a blizzard.

Ted sighed. "C'mon, kid," he said. "Let's check this guy out. It's not just that we'll get blamed if anything happens—it's that I'll blame myself."

The rookie carefully parked the car and joined Mayo in the biting wind.

"Thanks for telling me about the lining for the jacket, Sarge," Lee said. "It's a big help…Big help…"

"You got good warm socks on?"

"Yea…Hunting socks…My cousin who lives in Maine got them for me."

Mayo stamped his feet. "I may want that cousin's name."

They approached the large bulk carefully. As they moved closer, the two cops saw a big man leaning on a rail. Mayo felt some hope when he saw that the man stared out at the horizon and not down at the river. The man wore a thick, heavy wool coat and black leather gloves. Snowflakes speckled his graying, curling hair, and his face was very white in contrast to his dark clothes.

"Hey, buddy," Mayo called. "Everything ok?"

"Ok," the man said. "Would be an exaggeration. But I'm fine."

Lee looked at Mayo for guidance on how to respond to this man, who wasn't acting the way suicidal people had been presented in classes at the academy. Mayo found the man puzzling as well.

"Actually," the man said. "I'm on the job. I'm a detective. If I could get my badge and ID…"

Mayo nodded, but both he and Lee were on their guards as the large man reached inside his heavy overcoat. He pulled out a badge and ID and handed them to Mayo, who examined them. Beside him, Lee looked from the ID to the man.

"Robert Goren," Lee said excitedly. "You spoke at the academy…One of the more useful speakers we had. What are you doing out here on a night like this?"

Mayo was curious about the same thing. He handed the ID and badge back to Goren. The name rang distantly in his mind, but he couldn't remember why.

Goren accepted his certifications gratefully. "Waiting for an informant…I know…" he said in response to the cops' faces. "Not the best or most likely time…The guy obviously was pulling my chain…" Goren shrugged.

Most of the detectives Mayo knew wouldn't be out on the Brooklyn Bridge on Christmas Eve in a snowstorm, but Goren was more than polite and calm enough.

"Well, if he was around, we probably scared him off," Mayo said. "Sorry about that."

Goren waved a large hand. "Not a problem. Like I said, I don't think he intended to show."

"It's great to meet you," Lee said. "It's good to know that you practice what you preach."

Goren smiled wanly. "I try to."

"We'll leave you alone," Mayo said. "Get out of this lousy weather."

Goren nodded. "Thanks for the concern."

"Not a problem," Mayo said. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," Goren said softly.

Mayo had rarely seen Lee so excited. Goren was clearly a hero to the kid.

"Wait a minute," Mayo said as they neared the car. "Goren…Isn't he the weird guy from Major Case?"

"Maybe," Lee said. "All I know is that what he said in two hours was worth nearly everything else I got from the academy."

Bobby Goren didn't hear Lee's last words. He did hear Mayo's "weird guy". "Yea," Bobby thought as he turned back to the rail. "The "weird guy." Who else would spend Christmas Eve on a bridge in a snowstorm…" He stared out at the city. He could only see a few feet. The snow muffled the city's sounds and dulled its bright lights. He could easily imagine he was alone in the world.

"I wish," he thought. "That I was alone. Then I wouldn't hurt anyone." He looked down, following the snow's descent into the freezing water he knew was below him. "Now I can't jump…Those cops would get into trouble. I can't do anything tonight. Even if I went home and blew my brains out…If anyone found out I talked to them, there'd be questions." He shivered. It was terribly cold, so cold that little needles pricked through the wool of his coat, and his hands and feet felt like blocks of cold concrete.

"At least the bruise seems to be getting better…" He gingerly touched the spot above his right eye. It'd finally stopped bleeding. Ross and Alex were probably right. He should've gone to the ER to get it looked at instead of rushing away to play Santa. He'd scarcely noticed it after Pablo Torres sprang from his chair and lurched towards Alex in the interrogation room. All Bobby saw at that moment was a vicious drug dealer and pimp Alex and he knew had tortured and killed several prostitutes and drug addicts. Bobby knew he was pushing Torres close to his breaking point, but he pushed anyway. And then Torres went for Alex. He didn't get anywhere near her; Bobby's leap across the table took care of that. But all Bobby saw in his head was Torres seizing Alex's head and snapping her neck. That vision haunted him all day, even as he rebuffed Alex's efforts to get him to come to her family's celebrations and as he played Santa. He managed to concentrate on the latter task, but one perceptive child asked Santa if he was all right. "I'm fine," Santa assured the child. "It's just that it is my busy day."

The comment satisfied the child, just as the story about the informant did the cops. There wasn't any informer, any more than the man playing Santa was all right. Bobby closed his eyes and turned his face to the sky. The snow stung his cheeks.

"I wonder," he muttered out loud. "I wonder if it would've been better if I'd never been born…Maybe my birth…Maybe it destroyed my Mom…Reminded her of what happened…Ruined the marriage…Maybe she wouldn't have gotten sick…And Frank would've had a chance…Deakins…I probably ruined his career…And Ross…Maybe I'm ruining his…And Eames…Eames…She'd probably be a captain by now…"

He leaned on the rail and looked down. After booking Torres, Alex and he had stopped at the cafeteria for coffee. As they walked in, a sharply dressed woman with an air of authority greeted Alex warmly. Alex introduced her as Lieutenant Susan Rhodes. "A classmate from the academy," Alex said. Rhodes regarded him skeptically, an attitude that grew when Alex introduced him. He left to get coffee for Alex and himself and heard Rhodes say, "So that's the Major Case whack job." Bobby maintained his usual stoic face, but as he got the coffee, he saw Rhodes and Alex having an animated conversation. Rhodes stood, said something, and walked away. She saw Bobby, and her look froze his spine. When he brought the coffee to Alex, she said nothing, and Bobby felt he had no right to bring it up. But he knew that Rhodes undoubtedly had told Alex that her career was tainted by her association with Robert Goren, that Alex could easily be a lieutenant or captain by now if she hadn't remained partnered with him.

"It would've been a lot better if she hadn't met me," Bobby thought. He stared into the dark grey beneath the bridge. His right foot rose and rested on a higher rail. It wouldn't be hard. Just bring his left foot up by the right and repeat until most of his body could lean over the side of the rail. Then lean over and let gravity do its work. There might be a bit of mess for the two cops, but Bobby had lied well to them. The fall would likely kill him, and if it didn't, the shock of hitting and sinking the cold water would lead to drowning. He'd read drowning wasn't such a bad way to die. His left foot rose and joined the right. He let his right hand fall by his side; his left gripped a beam above his head.

"So simple," he thought. "So easy. Everyone's troubles will be over. There won't be many questions. Even without a note…It won't surprise anyone…The whack job finally offs himself." He let go of the beam and swayed in the cold wind.

END CHAPTER ONE


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

A flutter of bright blue caught the corner of Bobby's eye. For a moment, he feared the cops had returned, and he scrambled awkwardly down from the rail. A figure emerged from the snow. The bright blue came from a scarf around its neck. Bobby couldn't tell if the figure was male or female. It was difficult for him to recognize much about the figure. It wasn't particularly tall or short, fat or thin. It wore a pale grey coat and hat which blended with the snow. The scarf stood out vividly against this lack of color. Bobby could think of only one reason for anyone to be on the bridge at this time on this night—the same reason he was there.

"Are…Are you all right?" Bobby called tentatively.

"Yes," the figure responded in a gentle, deep voice.

"What…What are you doing here?"

"I've come to answer you, Robert."

A dull ache behind his eyes joined the throb of Bobby's bruise. He couldn't quite make out the features of the man who spoke to him. The man was white, very white, so much so that his face glowed. Bobby saw a remarkable pair of blue eyes—almost as bright as that scarf—looking kindly at him. Although the man stood right in front of him, Bobby couldn't definitely see any of his other features. Bobby had the impression the figure was very handsome.

Bobby blinked and pinched the bridge of his nose. "How…How do you know my name?"

"I know a lot of things about you," the man said. "I've known you all your life."

The man's gentle and concerned voice kept Bobby's anger at bay. "Look…Who are you? I'm sorry…But I don't remember you…"

"You wouldn't," the man responded. "You've never met me. My name, at least for tonight, is Michael." He stepped closer to the rail and looked out. "I love this city…I think almost as much as you do. Whenever someone says different kinds of people can't work together, I point to New York City."

"Yea," Bobby said softly. "How do you know that about me?"

"The same way I know that you're considering throwing away the greatest gift you have," Michael said. "It would be a great loss, especially since you're used it so well."

Bobby's suspicions and confusion grew. "I…I don't understand…"

"I've been sent by someone who's also named Michael…Someone who cares a great deal about policemen…Especially good and brave policemen…"

Bobby's head spun. He tried to recall if anyone named Michael had been a good force in his life. "Michael? Do you mean Mike Logan?"

Michael smiled sadly. "No…Not Mike Logan…Although the Michael I work for certainly worried about him…Still does, sometimes…You need to do something you do really well, Robert, and think beyond the usual…"

"Michael…Michael the Archangel…Is one of the patron saints of policemen…" Bobby mumbled. He stared at the figure, which smiled warmly at him.

"It's finally happened," Bobby murmured. "I've lost my mind…" He stepped closer to the rail.

"We were afraid you might think that," Michael said. He placed his right hand on Bobby's shoulder. A great, warm, and comforting sensation flooded through Bobby. "I'm not a hallucination, Robert. I may not be what is usually part of your life, but I'm real."

"If I have lost my mind," Bobby muttered. "I really…" He stared down at the water.

"But you haven't, Robert," Michael reassured him. "And your life is worth quite a lot. You've helped many people. You're a brave and good man."

Bobby shook his head and pulled away from Michael's grip. "You know so much about me. You must know that anyone I've ever cared about…I've hurt them…My presence in their lives wasn't a good thing…" His head pounded, and Bobby rubbed his eyes.

"Robert. You can't believe that. You possess a great intelligence."

"How can I not believe it?" Bobby asked. His voice was without anger or bitterness, but filled with a terrible resignation.

"You truly believe that your life hasn't been for good? That it would've been better if you'd never been born?" Michael asked.

Bobby closed his eyes. Alex's words of "It's too late now" echoed in his brain. "Yes…"

Michael sighed. "I'd hoped to avoid this. It's almost a cliché. It's so painful for everyone. But Mr. Dickens knew how to use parts of it in his story, and there's truth and power in it." Michael closed his eyes for a moment, and then opened them. "All right, Robert. You've never been born."

"Yea…Right," Bobby said. "Well, I'm not Jimmy Stewart, and you're not Clarence…"

"I like that variation," Michael said agreeably. "Although I think Bedford Falls might've shown George Bailey a little more appreciation before he got into such a mess."

Bobby suddenly realized his head didn't hurt. He touched his forehead and was stunned to find there was no bruise above his eye.

"You didn't get hurt because…" Michael began.

"I don't exist," Bobby said slowly. "All right…How does this work?"

"Touch the scarf," Michael said.

"I…I'm not Ebeneezer Scrooge," Bobby said.

"No." Michael smiled. "No more than I'm Charles Dickens, unfortunately."

Bobby hesitated. "Well," he said. "Whatever happens, I deserve it. And I'm not doing anything else tonight." He grasped the end of Michael's bright blue scarf. He was just able to register that it was the softest and warmest material he'd ever felt before the world spun around him and he was flung into light and sound and sensation.

END CHAPTER TWO


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

The lights and sounds and sensations subsided and disappeared. Darkness folded and faded around Bobby, and he realized he stood on an icy and cracked sidewalk. His knees buckled, and he would've fallen if Michael hadn't caught him.

"I'm sorry," Michael said as he helped Bobby stand. "I forget how unsettling that can be for humans. Especially for one as aware as you."

The roaring in his ears and the fog in his mind slowly cleared. Bobby examined his surroundings.

"This…This is a…A bad place…" Bobby reached for his gun and badge but found neither. "I know," Bobby said before Michael could speak. "I wasn't born, so I never became a cop, so I don't have a gun. Can anyone see or hear us?"

"Only if you request it," Michael said.

"Ok," Bobby sighed. "Why'd you bring me here?"

"Over there." Michael gestured toward the crumbling steps at the front of a dilapidated building. A terribly thin young woman wearing an even thinner jacket lurched up the steps, nearly falling as she tripped over a broken piece of concrete. Bobby reached out to steady her, but his hand did nothing. It didn't pass through the young woman's should; it didn't do anything. Bobby blinked and stared at his fingers.

"Ok," he said after a moment. "I forgot."

"You don't believe this is real," Michael said.

"Not entirely…But it's my reality for now." Bobby looked past his hand at the young woman, who banged on the building's door. From her appearance, Bobby guessed she was a drug addict who walked the streets to support her habit. She was vaguely familiar.

"Please…Please…" the young woman begged as she banged on the door. "Please, Eddie…"

The door finally opened and revealed a young man as skinny as the young woman. He wore ragged blue jeans and a dirty T-shirt. He shivered with the cold. "Damnit, Maggie…Watcha doing around here?"

Bobby's spine froze. He recovered, and walked around to face the woman. Her face was ravaged and her eyes desperate, but he recognized her as Maggie Coulter.

"I got what I owe you," Maggie said.

"How?" Eddie asked. His suspicions about it source didn't keep him from grabbing the wadded up bills Maggie held out to him.

"I just got it, ok?" she said. "Now…Can you give me some more?"

Eddie jammed the bills into his pockets. "That covered what you owed me, Maggie…Not any new purchases."

"I'll have it for you tomorrow, Eddie…I promise," Maggie pleaded. "I can hit my grandma or my grandpa…"

Eddie considered her words. "Tomorrow for sure?"

"Tomorrow, I swear…"

"You be nice to me tonight?"

Maggie tried not to shiver. "Yea…Yea…I'll be nice to you…"

"All right…" Eddie opened the door wide, and Maggie dragged herself inside. "Don't worry, baby," Eddie said. "Soon you won't care who you're with tonight. And you'll be warm."

The door shut. Bobby stared "No! No!" He shook his head. "Maggie Coulter goes to Columbia. She's a volunteer and advocate for women's rights. She's going to be a lawyer and work on human rights cases…She survived…"

Michael shook his head. "You weren't there to help her survive. You weren't there to give her the courage to testify against Simon Matic. She could never get past what happened to her. And Simon Matic got away. He's still out there terrifying women and children. You weren't there to help Maggie, Robert. You weren't there to help her and hundreds like here. That boy whose father tried to make him a genius. Jason and Natasha. The children you saved. They weren't saved."

"But that…That was work…I…I've never been good for the people I've worked with…Or cared about…"

"Let's look at someone," Michael said patiently. He closed his eyes again, and Bobby again experienced a weird displacement of time and space. The strange lights and sounds and feelings cleared away, and Bobby found himself in a very dark room occasionally pierced by flashes of colored light and pulses of a pulsating beat. For one terrible moment Bobby thought he was back at the strip bar where he suffered through his undercover work.

"No, Robert," Michael said gently. "This is a different place."

Bobby's eyes adjusted to the dim light. He tried to avoid looking at the nearly nude women and instead looked at the men watching them. He shuddered. The men had the same look Bobby remembered in the eyes of the man he'd thought was his father. His heart jumped into his throat when he recognized his former captain as one of the spectators.

"No…No…" Bobby mumbled. "It…He wouldn't…Eames and I…We just saw him and his wife…They…They…Invited us to a holiday party…His oldest daughter is getting married this spring. His youngest is an honors student at college. The middle one is going to the Police Academy. What's he doing here? He…He wouldn't come to a place like this, especially tonight. He'd be with his family…"

"But you were never at Major Case…You never met James Deakins…And…You didn't keep certain things from happening…Or showing him things…"

"No…" Bobby watched as Deakins placed several bills in a dancer's G-string. "He…He's too good of a man…"

"He was a good man," Michael said regretfully.

Bobby held a fist to his mouth. Deakins was bloated and bleary-eyed, at least twenty pounds overweight and looking ten years older than the man Bobby saw a few days ago. "He…He saved me…So many times…I…I don't understand…"

"Remember what he said when he left?" Michael asked. "He spoke of his "good detectives"…You and Ms. Eames…But because you never ived…You were never in Major Case. You weren't there to help Captain Deakins see what he had to do…"

Bobby continued to stare at Deakins. "He…He's in bad shape…His liver…"

"Yes," Michael said sadly. "A physical and moral ruin of a man. You made a huge difference in his life, Robert. And I could show you so many cops…Victims…Even criminals…You helped them all. You made them better. You are a great friend and teacher. But you never lived, so you couldn't help them."

"Nicole Wallace." Bobby wasn't sure if he thought or spoke the name.

Michael sighed. "Some things…People…Can't be repaired, no matter how we try. She hurt many more people, Robert…Ruined many more lives…Because you weren't there to stop her."

Bobby was dimly aware that Michael and he were no longer in the bar.

"My…My family," Bobby choked.

The world shimmered, blurred, and cleared, and Bobby stood in front of his mother and brother's graves. He turned to Michael.

"The dates of death…They're wrong…"

"No, Robert…They're right…"

"But…My mother died two years ago…Frank last year…These headstones…Say they died the same day…And…And Frank was only fifteen…"

"Even when you were very young," Michael said. "You gave your mother a purpose. A reason to hold on to her sanity. Without you…" He shook his head. "She loved Frank, but he didn't know what to do when she became ill. And you, obviously, weren't the cause of her illness. She became convinced that he was possessed by demons."

Bobby winced. He had always been the possessed one.

"Your mother killed Frank. She stabbed him when he was asleep, and then killed herself." Michael stepped closer to Bobby. "You saved them both for a while, Robert. You made their lives better. You were the best thing in their lives."

"But…I…I couldn't save them." Bobby rocked back and forth. "Every time my Mom saw me…"

"I don't know what to tell you, Robert," Michael said sadly. "But you did make her life better."

Bobby continued to rock back and forth. "Alex…Eames…" he whispered. He looked at Michael. "Eames…I have to see Eames."

END CHAPTER THREE


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Michael was clearly unhappy. "I'm not sure that's a good idea, Robert."

"Why not?" Bobby asked. "You're more than willing to show me how every one would be without me. Why not Eames? Is it because you know she's the one who really matters? She's doing ok, isn't she? Better than ok? She's a captain at least. She has a family."

"Robert," Michael said patiently. "It's just…I know this will hurt you…"

"And you haven't hurt me already?" Bobby said sharply. He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. But I want to see Alex."

Michael nodded and closed his eyes. Bobby was almost used to the strange sensation of being everywhere and nowhere. Being used to it didn't mean that he liked it. "If this is a dream," Bobby thought. "I don't know if it's a nightmare…Or maybe it's a hallucination. For some reason I trust Michael…He says I'm sane…"

Bobby blinked and found himself in another dark bar. "We're spending a lot of time in places like this," he said to Michael.

Michael smiled sadly. "Ms. Eames is over there," he said. "Please remember that I tried to warn you."

Bobby started towards the end of the bar, but hesitated. "You're sure she can't see me?"

"As I said, no one can see you unless you want them to."

Bobby nodded and walked towards Alex. He didn't recognize the bar as one of the places Alex and he frequented to celebrate a victory or mourn a rare failure. This bar appeared to cater to people doing the latter. It didn't seem the sort of place Alex would like.

He didn't recognize her at first. She sat at the bar with her back to him and spoke to a woman sitting beside her. Bobby recognized the woman as a detective they'd encountered at several crime scenes.

"Alex…You gotta get out of Vice," the other detective said.

"Vice?" Bobby thought. "She's still in Vice?"

"Yea…I know…" It was Alex's voice, but it was older and harsher and much more tired. "I'm too old to be walking the streets."

"Why didn't Major Case work out?"

Alex snorted. Bobby, a lead weight in his heart, walked to where he could see her face. The weight grew when he saw her face. Like Deakins, she looked ten years older and was several pounds heavier. Heavy makeup covered her face, but it didn't hide her exhaustion. She still wore her undercover uniform of high heeled boots, short black leather skirt (Alex once told Bobby she hated wearing leather clothes. It attracted the worst of the potential customers and, as she said, "It chafes! It's really uncomfortable!"), and form fitting, low-cut top. Her eyes were dull and vacant, and Bobby thought the expression had little to do with the alcohol Alex had consumed.

"I was at Major Case just long enough to have a cup of their lousy coffee," Alex said bitterly. "I was there for window dressing. And for the captain and other cops to make passes at." She took a long drink of what looked to be bourbon. "They dropped me as fast as they could. My partner could've protected me…Helped me…But he was too busy covering his ass…I was lucky that Vice took me back…"

"I know you hate it, Alex. Why do you stay?"

Alex shrugged. "I got nothing else. No husband or kids. Don't talk much with my family. Got too much invested in the job. I'll do the time and get the pension and then get the hell out of here." She emptied her glass and signaled the bartender for another.

"Well, I gotta go, Alex," the other woman said. "I gotta agree with you. I wonder sometimes if there's a good cop still out there." She slipped from her stool.

Alex stared at the drink the bartender placed before her. "I was married to the last one," she said. "I was married to the last good cop and man." She downed the drink in one swallow, choked, and fought back tears. She signaled the bartender for another.

Bobby turned to Michael. "This…This isn't right. She…She should be a captain at least. Tonight…She should be with her family…She loves her family…Nate…Her nephew…"

"Nate doesn't exist," Michael explained sadly. "Alex is a very different person because she didn't meet you."

Bobby looked from Alex to Michael. "That…That doesn't make sense…Alex…She's a great person…I had nothing to do with that…"

"She had some terrible blows in her life…You helped her deal with those…Showed her different ideas…"

"How?" Bobby waved a large paw. "She's always had to protect me…Take care of me…I…I never do anything…"

"You made her think differently…You made her a better policeman and person. She's told you these things, Robert. There are reasons why she forgives you. It's because you've done so much for her. But because you never lived, Alex never had someone do those things for her. She could never really talk about Joe. She never had that person who opened her mind. The person who understood her fears about being a surrogate and the pain she felt when she gave up Nate. You made it possible for her to be that person who could do that for her sister."

Bobby thought that for someone who never existed he was in a great deal of pain.

A man with dark, slicked back hair and the heavy smell of alcohol took the empty stool next to Alex. "Hey, baby," he said. "You working tonight?"

Alex turned to him. "Not working…But you can buy me a drink…"

The man smiled at her. The smile suggested that he was calculating how much money he'd save tonight. Rage boiled in Bobby.

"I want them to see me," he said forcefully to Michael.

"Robert…I can't protect you…"

"I want to be real to them!"

Michael sighed. "All right. But remember…Ms. Eames will not know you…I can't protect you…You can call for me, but I can't come right away…"

"I understand…"

Michael closed his eyes.

"Hey! Damn! Where the hell…Oh, sorry, man…Didn't see you there…"

Bobby's sudden appearance in the middle of the bar stunned a man who moved from belligerence to accommodating when he saw Bobby's size. Bobby ignored the man and strode to the bar where Alex sat next to the man Bobby had dubbed "the jerk" in his head. As he neared her, Bobby realized he had no idea of what he should say to Alex.

"Alex Eames!" Bobby boomed. "Where have you been hiding?"

Alex turned to him in bleary confusion. "The jerk" looked at him in confusion and growing fear.

"I'm sorry…Do I know you?" Alex asked.

Even though he knew she wouldn't recognize him, Bobby's heart cracked. "We worked in the same squad once…I don't think you'd remember me…We weren't on the same shift."

"You probably got all the decent ones," Alex muttered.

"The jerk" looked wide eyed from Alex to Bobby. "Cops…You're cops…" He fell off the barstool and stumbled away. Bobby smiled slightly. At least that thing wouldn't be with Alex tonight.

"Damn," Alex said. "I'd hoped…" She looked at Bobby in a disturbingly seductive way. "Please…Sit down…I may not remember you, but you buy me a drink, we can get to know each other."

"Uh…Didn't I just blow your cover?" Bobby sat carefully on the stool next to Alex.

"Nah." Alex motioned to the bartender. "Bring me another. And put it on…What's your name?"

"Goren. Bobby Goren." His heart shattered as it was clear his name meant nothing to her.

"Mr. Goren's tab." She giggled. "Little name for a big guy."

Bobby ignored the cheap scotch the bartender placed in front of him. "Uh…Eames…Are you still on duty?"

"Call me Alex," she said. "Are you? And what if I am? If they expect me to do this kind of work, I need a little help." She drank much of the drink.

"Uh…You…You have plans tonight? Maybe with your family?"

She glared at him.

"It's just…When…I heard you were close to your family," Bobby said lamely.

"What family? The one that's pretty much abandoned me? Or the dead husband in the cemetery in Staten Island?" She downed the rest of her drink and waved to the bartender.

"I…Uh…I'm sorry…I didn't know…"

"Damn right. You know nothing." She looked at him suspiciously. "You say you're a cop. Where do you work?"

He caught himself before he said Major Case. "Anti-terrorism. I could tell you about it, but then I'd have to kill you."

"Let me see your badge."

"Sure." He reached reflexively into his pocket and remembered. He'd never been born; he'd never been a member of the NYPD; he'd never been a member of Major Case; he'd never met Alex Eames. He didn't exist, and there was no proof that he did. There was no badge, no gun, no ID, no wallet, no money.

"What is it?" Alex asked.

Bobby looked quickly around, but there was no sign of Michael.

"I…I don't have anything…My badge…Wallet…" Bobby stammered.

"What?" Alex said angrily. "You leave 'em in your other pants?"

"No…No…I had them when I left the office." Which, Bobby thought, was true. "I…I musta lost them…I should call it in…"

"Oh, great!" Alex finished her drink and yanked several bills from her purse. She slammed them on the bar. "Thanks for nothing!" She nearly fell as she left her barstool, and Bobby caught her.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I really am. Please…Let me help you…"

She slumped against him. The bartender, appeased by his payment, paid no attention to them as they left the bar. The bitter wind and snow helped sober up Alex a bit. Bobby wondered what he should do. He wished he knew where Michael was. Bobby scanned the cars parked near the bar and found one that looked like Alex's. He found her keys in her purse and was enormously relieved to discover he was right about which car was hers. He sat her carefully in the passenger seat, buckled her in, moved to the driver's seat, and hoped she wouldn't get sick.

"What," she mumbled. "What are you doing?"

"Getting you home," Bobby answered. "I owe you that much."

Alex drifted between vague consciousness and fitful sleep as Bobby drove. He lowered the front passenger side window slightly in hopes the cold air would bring her back to something close to sobriety. Bobby realized he didn't know where he was going. At a stoplight, he considered getting her license to get her address, but she'd curled up around it in a way that made extraction nearly impossible. "She probably still lives at the house she had with Joe," Bobby thought. "She never met me, and Jo Gage never kidnapped her." He drove to Rockaway. The traffic was light, and he reached the house quickly.

Alex stirred as he pulled up in front of the house. She sat up, stared at the house, and glared at him. "What kind of a joke is this?"

"Uh…I thought…This was where you lived," Bobby stammered. He thought that Michael had been absolutely right about everything.

"I haven't lived here in years," Alex said coldly. "I lost it…Didn't want to keep it. Who are you, really? Some kind of stalker?"

"No…No…" Bobby tightly gripped the steering wheel. "My name is Bobby Goren. I am a cop…I…I'm your partner…At Major Case…In a different world and time…"

"Yea…Maybe the one in your crazy head…Hand me the keys…Slowly…"

Bobby turned and saw Alex had pulled her gun and now had it trained on him. "No," he thought. "Not again…"

"The keys," Alex said. "Hand me the keys."

Bobby slowly and carefully pulled the keys from the ignition and handed them to Alex.

"How'd you find out about me?" she asked.

"Please," Bobby said. "In this different world…We're partners…Best friends…I…I know about your family…I know about Joe…"

"Get out of the car…Don't try anything…"

Bobby stepped from the car and into the stabbing wind. He kept his hands raised and over the hood saw Alex with her gun on him. She held her cell phone and punched a number.

"Eames…Please…"

"Shut up." Alex held her cell phone to her head. "This is Detective Alex Eames…"

Bobby looked desperately around him. There was no sign of Michael. "Maybe I am crazy," he thought. "Maybe…Maybe this is reality, and I've just realized it…"

"Now," he heard Alex say. "We'll wait for the other cops…And get you to Bellevue…"

Bobby kept his hands up; snow created small streams down his arms. "Please…Please…One thing…"

"Shut up," Alex said tightly.

"When…When Joe was murdered…Were you pregnant?"

Alex, stunned, stared at him. She lowered her gun. "No one…No one knew that except me and my doctor. How…How could you?"

Sirens sounded in the distance. "I gotta get out of here," Bobby thought. He spun and ran down the street as fast as he could in the snow. Alex screamed after him, and in the driving snow he saw a patrol car headed for him.

END CHAPTER FOUR


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

Bobby spun and ran wildly down the street. He turned down the first side street he came to and slid and stumbled on the snow. He briefly wondered why he didn't feel the pain or cold, and remembered that he wasn't real. "Michael," he thought. "Please…Help me…I've got to find you…" He looked desperately for a place to hide.

A patrol car's lights cut through the dark and snow and caught Bobby in its beams. He lurched away. He heard a shout of "Stop!" Bobby scrambled down a staircase and suddenly faced a brick wall.

"Michael…Michael…" he prayed. "I understand now. I want to live. I want to be alive…If only to help Alex…But for other things too…Other people…I believe you…Please…I want to live…Michael…Please…"

"He went this way!" someone shouted. Flashlights shone through the snow and dark.

"C'mere, you SOB! Don't make us stay out in this blizzard to look for you!"

Bobby raised his hand. "Michael," he murmured.

A flashlight's beam caught him. "Against the wall! Against the wall!" a voice screamed.

Bobby turned and faced the wall. "Michael!" Bobby called. A blow slammed against his back. "Michael!"

The world spun and darkened around him. Bobby gasped for breath and found he was kneeling in deep snow. His head hurt terribly, and his left hand involuntarily reached up to touch his forehead. It came away with blood on the gloved fingertips. Bobby stared at the snow drenched sky. Cold sent tiny needles through his coat, and his knees froze in the snow.

"I hurt!" Bobby thought. "I hurt and…I'm cold. I'm alive! I'm alive!" He lurched to his feet. He spun wildly and threw his arms away from his body. He laughed until he choked and started to cry. He fell again to his knees. "Michael," he half sobbed. "Michael…I don't know what happened…I don't know how real any of this was…But I know that I believe that my life was good…I want to live…Thank you. Thank you."

He staggered to his feet, using the iron rail as support. He was back on the bridge. He shivered with the cold and exhaustion and joy. He reached inside his pocket and pulled out his badge, wallet, and I.D, and stared at them for several minutes as if he feared they might disappear. He placed them back in his pockets and found his gun in its accustomed place.

"Alex…I need to make sure she's ok." He fished out his cell phone. It contained two messages, both from Alex, both inviting him to her family's party, both expressing concern about him.

"Bobby…Please…" the second one said. "Even if you don't want to come…Call me…Let me know you're ok…You were hurt…And…You…Well…Please call me."

The sound of his name in her voice moved him deeply. "She knows who I am," he thought. "She's worried about me…She cares about me…"

As he stumbled in the direction of his car, the snow eased and stopped. The clouds cleared to reveal a nearly full moon, whose glow created thousand of tiny diamonds on the drifts. Bobby found his car, started it with surprising ease, and sat in it to warm himself. He considered calling Alex, but he didn't want to interrupt her enjoyment of her family's party. He desperately needed to see her, and he pointed his car in the direction of her sister's house on Staten Island.

He expected the roads to be clogged with traffic, but his journey was amazingly easy. There was little traffic, and he always seemed to be behind a plow or on a road where the ice and snow wasn't so bad. It was as if he had a guardian angel watching over him. Bobby smiled at that thought. "Thanks, Michael," he whispered. He arrived at the house and parked at the end of a long line of cars, and it was then that his courage failed him. He knew some of Alex's family held him responsible for what had happened to their sister, daughter, aunt, and cousin. He knew many of them regarded him as a bad influence on her career and life. He sat for several minutes in the car and tried to recapture the giddy joy that had propelled him towards Alex. The cold had started to seep into the car when there was a gentle knock at the driver's side window. Bobby started slightly and turned to see Alex's surprised, concerned, and happy face. His heart leaped into his throat, and his vision blurred. He recovered enough to motion for her to get in the passenger side of the car. A blast of cold air accompanied her entrance, and he turned the engine back on to provide some warmth. His hand shook as he put the key in the ignition.

"You came," she said softly. "I didn't believe my brother at first. Then he said you were sitting in your car thinking. That sounded like you."

Bobby shook with relief. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. He smelled Alex's scent and felt her tender touch on his head. For one wonderful moment, he thought he might be lost forever in this bliss, but a sharp pain brought him back to reality.

"You need to come in," Alex said gently. "For a lot of reasons. To get that cleaned up. We've got plenty of nurses and EMTs in there who'd love to practice on you. There's food and drinks and warmth. And Nate will be thrilled."

"Nate…" Bobby sat up. "Nate's alive!"

Alex stared at Bobby for a moment. "Of course Nate's alive," she said slowly. "He's very much alive. Especially tonight. He's very excited."

"Of course…Of course," Bobby said. He rubbed a hand behind his neck. "The last few hours…Have been…Uh…Weird…And hard for me…I'm sorry…"

"You all right now?"

"Yea…Yea…I'm sorry I didn't call back…I…I thought you'd be in the middle of your party…And…And then…I wanted…Needed…To see you…To make sure you were all right…"

"I can understand that," Alex said. "Truth is…I'm really glad to see you, Bobby…I…I was worried. You…You seemed so lost and alone when we left work…"

"I was," Bobby confessed. "But…I'm better now…A lot better…Life…Life is good…"

Alex studied him for a moment. "Yea," she said. "Yea it is. C'mon…Let's take care of you and celebrate that."

They stayed close to each other as they walked to the house.

"I have to warn you," Alex said. "A lot of people are planning to go to Midnight Mass. I may even go, if I'm not hit by lightning. Nate may go for the first time if it looks like he can handle it."

"I…I'd like that," Bobby said. He looked up into the clear sky. The moon glowed like gold, and the stars sparkled. Bobby and Alex's breaths spun fragile lace in the air. "I owe someone some time in church."

They stood just outside the front door.

"Merry Christmas, Bobby," Alex said warmly. "I'm glad you're in my life." She wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I…I'm glad you're in my life, Alex." Bobby wrapped his arms around her. "Merry Christmas."

END


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